


'Tis the Season

by areyoukiddingme



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Christmas, Cutting, Desk Sex, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, F/M, Knifeplay, Masochism, Sadism, Strangulation, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoukiddingme/pseuds/areyoukiddingme
Summary: He leered over her, pulling the hair back from her ear as he leaned in close."You know, I was only paid to humiliate you." He muttered against her ear. "But I think this'll be worth it."She grimaced at the floor, feeling him shift on top of her and the sharp point of a blade dug into her shoulder blade. She hissed and her muscles clenched in protest."This is going to hurt." He warned her before carving the blade through her flesh.~Vague festive themes, masochism and a surprise Penguin.





	1. Chapter 1

"Oh, I must have been good this year."

Zsasz smiled down at the woman tied up in front of him, a string of gaudy Christmas lights binding her ankles, snaking up over her hips and around her waist before eventually enchaining her wrists in a disgustingly colourful display. An unhinged, lopsided smile crossed his features that could turn most men’s blood to ice. Piper, however, didn't look up at him with dismay on her face; she was looking up with cool indifference, even cockiness, as if she knew something that he didn't.

"You Gotham boys do have a flair for the dramatic, don't you?" She asked him in a bored voice.

He was still smiling down at her idly, not perturbed in the slightest. She wrenched at her wrists but nothing gave way so she was forced to give up.

"How long did it take you to find me?" She asked him arrogantly.

"You think you're so clever." He took a step closer to her, his black Docs treading silently on the floor. "I could find you at any time."

"You're lying." She scoffed. "If that were true, I'd be dead already."

"Not if I didn't want you to be."

"Why kill me now then?"

"Y'know... 'tis the season, and all that." Zsasz looked up to the ceiling wistfully before his gaze dropped to her again.

"So you thought you'd kill your boss's main competitor as a little gift for him, did you?" She tipped her head and narrowed her eyes sceptically.

"Competitor? You sell weed to children." He sneered.

"If you don't want to kill me, why such a ridiculous display?" She pulled at her bonds again, more to emphasize her point rather than try to break free.

"Ah. That's where it gets interesting."

He smiled again and for the first time in their encounter she looked uncomfortable. Her lips pursed and she scrutinized his features; it was so simple when someone wanted to kill her. She'd switch on her feminine charms, bring out any number of bribes and she'd be good. But he didn't want to kill her. And the look in his eyes right now suggested that she was about to become the rodent in a game of cat and mouse.

"What do you want then, Victor?" She asked him sweetly, masking her uncertainty with mock-kindness.

"Don't call me Victor."

"Why not?"

"It's too familiar. I don't know you."

"Alright then, _Zsasz_." She said pointedly. She was used to petulant men in Gotham, and she wasn't in the mood to argue. "What do you want?"

"You owe my boss something." He said, his hand absently running over his holstered gun.

"I doubt that." She insisted. "I don't owe anyone anything, not any more."

"You embarrassed him."

"I embarrass everyone who makes fun of me." She spat, pulling at her wrists. "Now let me go."

"Getting scared, are we?"

She glared at him, her eyes filled with fire. He rocked back on his heels, quietly confident in his restraints and the situation he had manufactured.

"I don't sell weed to children." She said coldly. "I run a successful drug company on the east side of Gotham. I'm the reason your boss is getting business, so if you want to continue being paid then I suggest you untie me."

"What would be the fun in that?" He asked, his voice low and unamused.

"I've got money."

"I don't want money."

She was slowly starting to see how much he looked like he wanted to devour her and her flesh crawled. He took several steps towards her on silent feet before stopping a foot before her and dropping to his knees. Their heads were now level and his eyes flickered up and down her body, his head incrementally leaning towards her.

"Torture then, is it?" She muttered, careful not to touch him with her breath.

"How did you know?" He asked softly, his face merely inches from her own.

"Well, I'm scared." She looked to the floor. "And I don't scare easily, Victor Zsasz."

He reached forward and placed his hand on her chin, leading her face back to his. She gulped audibly and felt her stomach drop at the look in his eyes; he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"I can get you whatever you want, just let me go." She urged him desperately, trying to ignore his gloved hand on her chin. "I can fix you up."

"You mean drugs?" He clarified, his grip on her chin loosening.

She nodded, hoping that prolonged eye-contact and an innocent face would sway him.

"Drugs are not a good idea. That's how I got..." He trailed off, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. His hand dropped from her chin and he reached up to pull at the button of his collar, exposing the skin of his collar-bone so she could see the rows and rows of tally-marks etched into his skin. He pulled his shirt down further to point at two rows of tallies carved into his chest.

"That's how these happened." His jaw shifted as he tapped at the scars. "One night, ten people. I wasn't even being paid."

Now she pulled back, confusion marking her features. He fastened his shirt, only noting her confusion once he had looked back up and an easy smile crossed his features.

"You know my name but you don't know my reputation?" He asked her slowly.

"You were following me, I had to find out who you were." She responded defensively.

"You should have done more research." He uttered ominously, leaning towards her.

"I think you're just playing a big game." She rocked towards him, pushing him backwards in an arrogant display to make her feel more in control. She chose not to think of angering the man who killed people for money and whose clothing covered every inch of his body, presumably to hide the multitude of scars covering it.

He got up off of his knees and she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, his domineering presence no longer two inches from her face. He went over to a battered table and looked over the contents which she couldn't see thanks to her lowered vantage point.

" _Are you sure_ I can't tempt you with anything?" She said through gritted teeth, purposefully pushing her shoulders backwards and her chest forward. He looked back to her and his eyes shone, but he turned back to the table nonetheless. She sighed having exhausted all of her options; money, drugs, she'd even stooped to offering herself. There clearly wasn't any way to dissuade this man from his target.

"Come on, it's Christmas." She sank back a little, the lights pressing into her body a painful reminder of the time of year. "Goodwill to all men, not just the people who pay you."

"I don't like Christmas." He responded, picking at the contents of the table.

"Then what's with these?" She looked down at the lights.

"My boss's idea. Oh yeah-"

He took out a phone from the inner pocket of his jacket and pointed it at her. The flash went off in the dim room, making her eyes waver with black spots.

"Are you planning to take pictures throughout?" She snapped, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get her sight back.

"Depends what we get up to." He shrugged, slipping his phone back into his jacket. "My boss can get squeamish if things get... bad."

"What are you going to do to me?" She asked apprehensively.

"I haven't decided just yet. Let's see how fun you are to play with."

He passed around the back of her and she watched him until he disappeared from her line of sight. She felt him pull at her wrists, then he tutted and shifted behind her, pulling the hair back from her neck when she felt something cool and thin run along her throat. She shuddered away from the invasion and the hand tracing her neck, even though she knew it was all just a stunt to creep her out.

"I always was bad at untangling Christmas lights." He said next to her ear and goose bumps rose on the back of her neck.

Sounds of snapping echoed behind her and her wrists and her hands slowly came free. She felt a sudden dizzying bout of freedom that she was determined to act on when he jerked at her arms, bringing his mouth close to her ear again.

"If you try to hit me, I'll kill you right now." He muttered, as if reading her mind.

"I wasn't going to." She assured him, her head now hurting from the sudden rush of adrenaline along with her hands shaking as she folded them onto her lap gently.

He took the loose end of the lights in his hands, wrapping the cord around her neck and twisting it until it was tight. She looked to the ceiling, blinking rapidly as he braced his knee against her back and pulled. Her hands flung to her neck, trying to pull at the lights but he held it tightly to her skin so she was doing more harm than good as she scrabbled at her own neck with her nails. She choked, her mouth falling open as she struggled to breathe, her eyes wide and roving and actions jerky and panicked.

It finished abruptly, the pressure suddenly lifted from her neck and she hunched over, her breathing laboured and harsh against the back of her throat. He forced her back upright, his gloved hand firm on her shoulder and his head nestled into the crook of her neck. He was listening to her forced breathing and could feel her frantic pulse, even under his gloves. His eyes flickered over her face while she kept her eyes closed as she juddered, furiously trying to keep her cool after an attempted strangulation. He hummed against her ear, leaning away from her and unwinding the lights from her neck.

"You're going to be fun."

Passing over to the front of her, he kneeled again and held the blade to her throat. She lifted her chin, angling her head away from it.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" He asked her in a low voice. "Only, you're usually on the opposite side. You know exactly what to do to make your company seem... desirable. You've watched other people being tortured, known what it is that makes a person seem weak and pathetic in a situation like this. You've let other people go free if you liked them, haven't you? You're hoping I'd do the same thing."

She merely looked at him with wide eyes, still angling her head away from the blade. He pursed his lips angrily, standing up and leaning over her to hold her wrists together. Then he pushed at her back and she fell forward, squeaking as she landed face-first on the floor, her cheek slamming against the tiles. He pulled at the lights still wrapped around her waist, uncomfortably pulling them out from underneath her, but kept the lights firm around her legs so they still remained in the kneeling position, even when she was sprawled face-first on the floor. 

He lowered himself over her back, pulling her arms into place so he could kneel over her forearms. She struggled, but could only wriggle underneath his weight, hardly enough to put him off of his current course. He pulled at her shirt, slipping his knife underneath her collar and slicing through it easily. The sound of ripping fabric made her wince and her immobilized hands clenched into fists.

He leered over her, pulling the hair back from her ear as he leaned in close.

"You know, I was only paid to humiliate you." He muttered against her ear. "But I think this'll be worth it."

She grimaced at the floor, feeling him shift on top of her and the sharp point of a blade dug into her shoulder blade. She hissed and her muscles clenched in protest.

"This is going to hurt." He warned her before carving the blade through her flesh.

She thought it hurt before, but that was no comparison to the blinding pain she felt right now, her vision blurring with spots and shoulder sending searing pain all the way up and down her spine. She was in so much pain that she didn't even scream, her throat constricted and all she could do was make choking sounds in the back of her throat.

He lifted the blade then immediately pushed it into her back again, the pain washing through her again. She could barely stay conscious, but somewhere in the back of her brain she could feel the searing gouge marks make a pattern on her shoulder blade. She couldn't tell what that pattern was; she'd have to check at a later date. If she survived the encounter, that is.

He finally pulled the blade from her back and she shuddered, breathing heavily and harshly against the tile flooring. Her whole body was shaking and her shoulder was throbbing unpleasantly, temporarily numbed by the adrenaline that would eventually wear off and paralyze her with pain.

"There." He muttered.

He flicked the blade so it skittered across the floor. He leaned forward, his weight shifting fully onto her forearms so her hands began to tingle from lack of blood. She felt something dragging across her back, something that felt suspiciously like a tongue and she shuddered, trying not to think of how much pleasure the sick man was gaining from this.

When he sat upright again, he leaned back and started pulling the remaining christmas lights from around her legs until they were freed from their kneeling position.

Finally lifting his weight from her forearms, he stood and threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her upright. He gently led her to stand opposite him where she glared at him, resigned. Using her hair he jerked her head back and she hissed, her teeth clenching.

"Is that enough for your boss?" She spat.

"Yes." He muttered, taking a step closer to her.

"And what about you?" She asked, with some degree of hesitancy.

"It's never enough." He confessed, his fingers curling even more tightly into her hair. "Especially when I have pretty little things like you to play with."

She looked intensely uncomfortable at this and shifted, accidentally tugging at the hair caught in his fist. She winced and tried to ignore the man's face that was only inches from her own. His fingers twitched in her hair and he manually turned her around so he could survey his handiwork.

He looked at the raw, bleeding wounds on her back and his eyes dilated, his hand inching towards her waist. When his hand came into contact with her body she jumped, her eyes closing and jaw clenching in anger. His arm slowly crept around her torso, reaching for her buttons and pulled at them one by one until the shirt was hanging off of her body. His long fingers pulled the fabric from her shoulders until the shirt crumpled to the floor.

"Wouldn't want to get blood on it." He muttered against her ear.

She bit her tongue at mentioning that it had already been torn halfway down her back by his knife as this seemed to be some sort of sick fantasy of his that he was playing out with her. His hands came into contact with her waist again, steady hands on her bare skin, but as they started moving incrementally upwards she stopped them with her own hands. His breathing was harsh against her right ear, and she had a sudden epiphany, a way in which she could be in charge of the situation.

"Am I turning you on, Zsasz?" She asked, angling her head towards his.

She stepped away from him, his grip dropping from her waist. Turning to him, she arched her eyebrow and pushed her chest forward, owning the fact that she was in her bra in front of an apparent masochist.

"I grew up in Gotham, do you think I'm not used to grown men staring at me?" She questioned him arrogantly.

He could tell she was trying to get on top of the situation and lashed out, forcing his hand against her neck and shoving her against the wall in a cocky gesture.

"Is rape a part of your torture regime?" She choked out, her throat tensing against the palm of his hand.

At this, he abruptly dropped her, turning on his heel and shaking his arm out angrily. She put her hand to her throat and let her body sag down the wall a little while she tried to catch her breath.

"Can I go now?" She begged him.

He turned to look at her, his eyes flashing dangerously. Her eyes were dark as she returned his gaze evenly, her fingertips tracing the skin of her neck.

"Yes." He said, straightening himself out and folding his hands in front of him. "I'll see you again."

"In your dreams, pal." She retorted, heaving herself off of the wall and reaching down to pick up her torn and bloodied shirt.

She didn't even look back at him as she left the room, stepping over the snapped Christmas lights and making a special point to put her shirt back on before going out of the door.

* * *

 

The next day, she stalked through polished hallways and past expensive, unusable pieces of furniture made of dark brown wood. When she finally arrived at her destination, she slammed her hand on the desk. The man continued what he was writing before leaning back and eyeing her with interest.

"Care to explain why you fucking sent Victor Zsasz out to torture me, Penguin?" She demanded angrily.

Penguin smiled idly, tapping his pen against his desk as he looked at the furious woman who looked ready to strangle him.

"Ah yes, Piper, isn't it?" He asked. "Did you enjoy your time with him?" 

"Quite the opposite." She said through a forced smile. "I didn't appreciate your choice in theme, either."

"That reminds me..." Penguin trailed off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his cell phone.

He flicked through his phone, biting on his pinkie until his face broke into a grin and he turned the phone so she could see it too. What she saw was a rather unattractive picture of herself, taken from an awkward angle while she was still tied up in the gaudy Christmas lights.

"Blackmail?" She asked through an enforced state of cool. "Not your style is it, Penguin?"

"Not usually."

"I swear Penguin, if I find that _anywhere_ -" She spoke, her voice rising but he cut her off.

"Relax. This isn't blackmail, this is merely a reminder." He said diplomatically.

"Of what? My place?" She asked, laughing in disbelief.

"I'm glad you got it so quickly."

"I wasn't doing _anything_  to you." She affirmed in a low, grave voice. "I wasn't being a threat, I wasn't encroaching on your turf. I'm merely an asset to you. Why torture me?"

"You can never be too careful." He shrugged.

"So what? You did this to everyone?"

"Take your shirt off." He said abruptly and she started back.

" _Excuse me?_ "

"I heard Zsasz had a little fun with you. I want to see."

She had discovered what the marks were for herself, that night when she showered and she forced herself through the pain of pelting the open wounds on her back with hot water. It was only once she stepped out she remembered the vague feeling that he was drawing a pattern when he was cutting into her and wiped at the steamy mirror in her bathroom with a towel. It took a few moments for her mind to figure out the word etched into her back in the mirror; Zsasz. The word 'Zsasz' was carved into her back, like some kind of fucked up possession thing. The cuts were jagged but remarkably precise, for a blade.

"Alright, fine. I'll humour you." She spat at him.

Turning and unbuttoning the top half of her shirt, she indulged him as she pulled it over her left shoulder. She could hear him chuckle and lean back in his chair as he saw the raw cuts on her back.

"He's a cheeky thing, isn't he?" Penguin asked through a grin. "But I think I'll let him get away with it, just this once."

She uncomfortably pulled her shirt back on and buttoned it up quickly.

"You know, when I knew you'd sent a hitman after me, I thought you were going to kill me and take over my company." She said jovially over her shoulder at him.

He stayed unusually silent as a response. She turned back to him, straightening out her collar.

"Is that all you came here for? To shout at me?" Penguin asked, tipping his head.

"Yeah. I'll let you have your little power thing for now Penguin." She said before leaning in conspiratorially. "But I know your fondness for that pretty boy, Ed. If you try anything like that again..."

She trailed off, dragging her finger across her throat. Then she turned and swept out of the room, her steps still short and angry.


	2. Chapter 2

There was always a big Christmas party held with all of the heads of the companies in attendance, along with inspectors and executives. It was the one night when they stopped bitching about one another and actually got along. This year it was being held in an expensive restaurant with a waiting list that was years long. Piper had organized it well in advance, and had personally made sure that everything was perfect. It was too late to drop Penguin from her guest list, but fortunately he never showed up anyway. She didn't give moments thought as to why that might be, she was too busy entertaining and making small-talk with boring, middle-aged men in the same business as her. 

The place was buzzing, waiters weaving expertly in between tables and everyone was getting along. Until two shots were fired into the ceiling. While everyone else screamed and cowered and ducked, Piper stood to see Zsasz in the middle of the room with a smoking gun held above his head. She held her arms up, stepping towards him and he caught her eye.

"Looking for me, Zsasz?" She asked.

She approached him cautiously and he lowered his arm, now pointing the gun at her head.

"The boss said you'd know what this was about." Zsasz shrugged, keeping the gun held steadily to her forehead.

She looked to him, confused. She didn't know what... unless Penguin had taken what she had said the other day seriously? About him taking over her company... no, that was ridiculous.

He cocked his gun and a couple of whimpers echoed out in the largely silent room. All of the observers, instead of fleeing, had taken to cowering silently behind their tables and she was left as the one person to face off against the hitman. Clenching her jaw, she closed her eyes to focus on the cool metal pressed against her skin and tried to centre her thoughts around that and the panic she felt bubbling up inside. Then her eyes flung open and she started speaking very quickly and purposefully.

"Woah, woah, hold on a second. Don't you do any... any final words, last requests, that sort of thing?" She stammered.

"Alright." Zsasz accepted without hesitation, but kept the gun trained on her head.

Well aware of the hundreds of eyes on her, she took a hesitant, self-conscious step toward him. Then she lifted her arm and batted the gun from her forehead, making him stumble unexpectedly, and as he righted himself, she grabbed his collar and pulled him towards her forcefully. While his momentum carried him forward, she stepped towards him and forced their lips together impulsively, wrapping her hands around his neck so he couldn't pull away. As she kissed him, she very quickly realized that this hadn't been part of her plan at all and he- he seemed to be enjoying it. She could feel his lips soften beneath hers and she slowly relaxed her own lips, allowing his tongue to slip between her teeth. She started a little but didn't pull away as he kissed her properly back, making her feel way out of her depth as she felt emotions that she never thought she could experience with a hitman, let alone Victor Zsasz. She swore she could feel his heartbeat rise under the palms of her hands as she kissed him.

She worried it was some sort of weird Freudian thing that led her to kiss him, making her think of what she wanted to do, deep down. She hadn't kissed him because she wanted to, it had been an act of desperation as her mind hadn't come up with anything better. But now she feared that it _had_ been something that she wanted. His mouth did feel delicious on hers.

As she thought all of this, her hands uncurled from his neck and she slowly pulled her lips away. His eyes were dark and engulfing so she looked to the floor just for a reprieve. When she looked back up again, she could only see his back as he stalked towards the door. She watched him blankly as he opened the door and left the restaurant. The room was oppressively silent for several moments before people started to hesitantly get up from behind their tables and a small ripple of applause burst out at how Piper had diffused the situation. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms insecurely; she hadn't dealt with that well at all, and now she didn't know where she stood with the assassin and the hit on her head.

She turned back to the crowd of people, grinning coyly and made her way haltingly back to her own table. Throughout the rest of the meal, dozens of people bought her a drink to thank her for not having to witness a murder that night and splashing their expensive dress with hard-to-remove blood. She managed to make it through the rest of the meal, but the moment the first person excused themselves, she followed after them. She stormed to her car, and started driving to a very specific location that she was beginning to get to know too well.

More polished furniture, long hallways, dark wood. But when she got to the study and the desk she was ready to slam her hand against again, she found it unoccupied. She was just about to huff and turn around when the door clicked behind her. 

She angled her head incrementally towards the door to see black clothing in her peripheral vision. A sound of a gun cocking.

"Really? We're going to go through this again?" She forced boredom into her voice to mask her fear.

"There's still a price on your head." An equally disinterested voice answered behind her.

She turned back to see Zsasz, his stare hard and gun pointed at her head.

"I know." She seethed. "That's why I'm here, to make your boss beg for forgiveness."

"He's not here."

She looked at him as though he was stupid.

"So what can I do to stop you from shooting me?"

He shrugged.

"You know, you're a marvelous conversationalist." She said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You should give me your number, I'll call you up when I need a profound statement."

"Criticising me isn't going to prolong your life."

She sighed, crossing over to the other side of the desk and flopping onto the chair that was usually occupied by Penguin. Making firm eye contact with Zsasz, she propped her legs up onto the desk and crossed them over.

"You're not going to kill me." She assured him.

"Oh no?" He asked, cocking his head.

"No. Or you would've done it already."

At this, he conceded and put the safety back on the gun he was holding, stepping forward and placing it gently on the desk in front of her. His hand skimmed the desk, fingertips tapping idly on the surface of the wood.

"Why won't you kill me?" She inquired, swiveling lazily in her chair. "Holding out on a hit like this certainly can't be good for your _'reputation'_."

He paused, fingertips halting and his tongue poked into his cheek.

"I want to hear you scream before you die." He answered eventually, slowly turning his head to look at her.

Her lips pursed and she stopped swiveling, concerned by the way her heart juddered when he looked at her.

"Any particular kind?" She drew her feet back and stood up.

"Hm?" 

"Well, do you want a pained scream?" She asked, hesitating before continuing. "...Or an erotic scream?"

She started making her way around the desk while he stood perfectly still, only his head following her movements. Soon she was close enough to touch him, then close enough to kiss him.

"I'd settle for either at this point. They'd both do the same thing to me." He tried to keep the disinterested facade, but his voice came out rougher than before.

"Oh would they?"

Her fingers curled into his suit and his hips pinned her against the desk, making her inhale sharply at the feel of something bulging in his trousers. His eyes were wide and fixed on her, eating up every little reaction she had to him and his advances. His hand ran up her back, long fingers splayed so he could press every inch of her body against his, and when they were close enough he kissed her again. But this time it wasn't filled with the uncertainty of before, he was decisive and direct in his movements. As her lips were secure, he let his hands wonder down her back again, coming to rest underneath her buttocks so he could bump her up into the desk. She whined against his mouth in protest; he was now at the perfect angle to press his already bulging groin against her sex.

He abruptly parted their lips, but kept their heads close enough that their foreheads were still touching and they were sharing the same heady air. His hand smoothed down one arm until it reached her slim wrist, at which point he gripped it aggressively and yanked her arm to an unnatural position behind her back. The limb popped in the silence of the room. She whimpered, and he groaned in response. But while her whimper was rooted in pain, his voice was filled with something entirely different, a wanton need that somehow relieved her pain as she heard that desperate sound next to her ear.

He slowly released the arm, though he seemed desperate to twist the rest of her into more unnatural positions if she was going to continue to make such delicious noises. He settled instead for placing a hand to her chin and leading it upwards, to extend her neck so he could kiss at the sensitive skin. He trailed kisses up her neck and across her jaw, and she responded eagerly by wrapping her hand around his neck and digging her nails in. At this, he smiled despite himself and his arms wrapped around her slender body again, this time reaching for the zipper currently keeping her dress hemmed to her body. With agonizing patience, Zsasz pulled down the zipper until her back was exposed to the cool air. He shuffled the fabric from underneath her before lifting the dress up and over her head.

She was breathing heavily, but he could see just how heavily when her torso was exposed, every rattling breath revealing a delicate ribcage under that tender flesh. He imagined how easy it would be to break every one of those bones.

"Fuck." She expressed sharply, and his eyes flicked back up to hers.

Her eyes were filled with lust, and she desperately pulled at his suit jacket until it fell to the floor with a thud. That's all the clothing he allowed her to divest him of, however, before kissing her fiercely again. Seeing her supple frame had twisted his guts, making him take her lower lip between his teeth and biting until both of their mouths filled with the metallic taste of blood. She had no time to protest or whimper as his hands ran over her again, reaching for her bra and unclasping it expertly with his long fingers. Still kissing her, he pulled the bra from her body and threw it somewhere into the room. He took her breasts in his hands, squeezing and massaging, and his lips parted from hers again so they could trail across her flushed collar-bone. His head dipped lower and his tongue darted over her nipple, making her make a sound in the back of her throat that shot directly to his groin.

He lifted his head to kiss her again, making a point of reaching into his suit and retrieving something. When she pulled back from him to see what it was, he could feel her stiffen slightly under his hands. He trailed the knife down her side, hard enough that she could feel the sharp edge, but soft enough to only leave a tiny white line on her skin. His eyes danced with mischief as he slipped the knife underneath the side of her underwear. Her chest contracted as he pulled sharply, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the room. He did the same to the other side until he could fling that useless piece of fabric too to an undisclosed location within the room. She was left breathless and naked underneath the hitman.

She had the sudden urge to cross her legs, but he intercepted that urge by placing himself between them, spreading her legs while working at the fastenings of his pants. He forced her backwards onto the desk with one firm hand on her chest, so she was left to stare at the ceiling while he positioned himself. Her hands clenched into fists by her sides as she prepared herself.

He entered her, and her vision danced with spots and stars. She was vaguely aware that she let out a moan or a shriek, but she couldn't quite be sure. He certainly wasn't being gentle with her, but she didn't expect anything less. He did allow her to get used to his length, however, before slowly beginning to thrust. She felt him place a warm hand on her stomach, to keep her in place on the desk. She groaned and whimpered at his movements, and as she did so she found him increasing in speed and tempo. Soon enough, the hand was gone from her stomach and both hands were clutching at the hard edge of the desk. Her legs wrapped around his narrow waist and she aided his rhythm, pulling him in closer and deeper with every thrusts. This time it was his turn to groan, something animalistic ripping from the back of his throat that would have scared her if she were in any other situation with Victor Zsasz.

He grabbed both of her arms and pulled her upright again so they were eye to eye as he rut into her, both eyes fully dilated and breaths heaving with need. He kissed her again, fleeting and passionate as she undid the top two buttons of his shirt with shaking hands. Her hand ran over his neck and the new skin she had exposed and she felt the scars puckering his skin. She didn't know whether they were recent or not, but she dug her nails in and he winced, before a dark smile crossed his lips. Both of their visions were blurring, but just before she was sent toppling over the edge, he leaned his head down and bit her shoulder, sharp enough to send her diving into a orgasm. Her tightening around him also led him to come, and while he held onto the desk to support his weak knees, she looped her arms around his neck and used him for support as she shuddered against him.

When he pulled out she felt empty, almost disappointed when he re-did his pants and leant over to pick his jacket back up and put it on. She almst thought that he was now entirely disinterested with her after having sex, but when she caught a glimpse of his eyes there was still that fire in them that they had held before.

"Done with me, are you?" She asked, immediately back to being unsure. "Are you going to let me go now? Or are you my last fuck on death row?"

Both of their eyes strayed to the discarded handgun on the desk. She felt a miniscule shudder run down her back while the very corners of his lips twitched.

"You're a fucking stupid woman, do you know that?" Zsasz said harshly, his attention still on his suit buttons. "Probably why he thinks he can get away with killing you."

"I'm not dead yet." She said firmly.

He looked to her and nodded, his hand moving from his buttons to the gun, picking it up and idly weighing it in his hand. He pointed it at her head, and this time he could see the tremor that ran through her body thanks to her lack of clothes, her muscles rippling as she closed her eyes and inhaled sharply through her teeth.

"I want to hurt you." He assured her in a low voice.

"I know you do." She breathed, just daring to crack open her eyes. "I can see it in your eyes."

He tortured her with that gun, keeping it trained at her head while she looked into his eyes and tried to figure out what the hell he was thinking.

"I want to go on hurting you for a while longer." He said eventually and a rush of air escaped her lungs as she curled into herself slightly. "I'll negotiate with Penguin next time I see him."

"I can do that." She said quietly.

"That went really well last time." His eyebrow quirked up at her and she forced a smile.

"Hand me my dress, will you?" She asked, and he obliged, reaching down and handing the thing to her. It had been discarded within the proximity of the desk, unlike her other articles of clothing that Zsasz currently couldn't even _see_.

She pulled the dress over her head and struggled with the zip until Zsasz stepped in and pulled at it smoothly. He was so close to her and his eyes burned with such intensity still, even just after having climaxed, and she wondered if that look ever left his eyes. He just seemed so full of pent up rage and anger, that was just _him_ and how he expressed himself. That's probably how he got such a great 'reputation'.

"Will you let me hurt you?" He asked in a voice so low, even that made her shudder.

Saying yes to a man like Zsasz was bound to get you into trouble. But she wasn't thinking about the long-term, and right now she very much wanted to say yes. There was no point saving face now, she had already submitted to him once.

"What would you do to me?" She asked hesitantly and his eyes shone.

He leaned his head towards her, and more in the manner of a pining lover rather than a threat he muttered against her jaw;

"Break your arms."

"Go slow Zsasz, you'd still want me operational." She joked, ignoring the rapid beating of her heart. She had never thought of herself as a masochist. But she guessed she had been wrong.

He pushed against her, back towards the desk again but this time she bumped herself up onto it so she could be more level with his head. He kissed her lazily, both of his hands settling either side of her hips, pinning her in place yet again.

"You'd have to tie me down if you wanted to do something like that to me." She said against his lips and they pulled back into a smile.

"That can be arranged."

She felt the hairs rise on her neck and felt that they were both about to start emphatically tearing at one another's clothes again, when a step-shuffle sound of footsteps echoed outside the door. Both of them froze, turning to look as the door opened.

It was Penguin who walked through the open door, his nose tinged red and his walk cycle more lopsided than usual. He was very clearly drunk and had been drinking red wine, an observation made less impressive as he was still holding the half-empty bottle in his hand. He either didn't notice the two people already in his office, or he simply didn't care.

Zsasz looked to Piper, then back to Penguin, before reaching over to pick up the gun. He then swiftly pointed it at Penguin who blearily tried to focus on the hitman.

"I'm not going to kill her." Zsasz said firmly.

"What?" Penguin exhaled, stopping in his tracks.

Zsasz repeated himself and Penguin shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Kill _who_?"

"The person you put a hit out on today. Piper." Zsasz said, his own face masked in confusion. "The drug company owner."

"Oh." Penguin stuttered. "Fine. Yeah."

Penguin waved his hand dismissively at Zsasz, continuing to make his way towards his desk. Zsasz slowly lowered his gun, surprised that Penguin had relented so quickly, even when drunk.

"Means less paperwork for me anyway." Penguin mumbled as he sat himself behind his desk. "Victor, tell me. Why is there a breathless woman currently sitting on my desk?"

Piper quickly hopped off, turning her back quickly just in case her dress had soaked up the evidence of their sex. She approached Zsasz and he inclined his head slightly towards her, back to his professional persona despite his boss being completely out of it.

"Wait for me outside." He whispered at her.

"What about my underwear?" She hissed back.

"I'll deal with it." Zsasz said in an undertone. She nodded and started backing out of the room.

"Have a good Christmas." She called out to Penguin, generous in her response as he was so completely sozzled. "Take care of yourself."

Penguin mumbled in response. Once she had left, Zsasz stepped closer to Penguin, tipping his head in concern.

"Can I get anything for you boss?"

"No thank you, Victor." Penguin responded politely, taking another swig from his bottle. "Who was that woman again?"

"Never mind, sir." Zsasz sighed before he himself left the room.

The moment he opened the door to the study, Piper jumped back looking sheepish; she had been listening in. He closed the door softly and carefully behind him.

"Is he alright?" She mouthed and he shrugged.

"He gets like this sometimes." He muttered back. "Come here, I'm not finished with you."

She looked momentarily confused before he pushed her around and shoved her against the wall. She resisted him but his hands were like lead on her shoulders, keeping her neatly in place. 

"Get off." She hissed, but he ignored her as he released one of his hands and pulled at the zip of her dress. He pushed it down far enough to expose her left shoulder and she could feel his hand brush over her rapidly healing scars. Then his weight shifted from her shoulders to to pressing her against the wall using his hips, his legs encasing hers and lower body flush against her own. She could feel his arms moving behind her and when she turned her head she saw a blade pressed against her shoulder. He did like to tease her with that knife.

"Keep quiet." He hushed the order against her ear.

One hand clamped firmly around her mouth, his long fingers pressed against the skin of her cheek as the other held the blade against her shoulder blade, seemingly over her other scars. He sank the blade into her skin and she made a strained sound in the back of her throat. He jerked the hand on her mouth slightly, jerking her head just to remind her of their agreement. She scrunched her eyes closed, trying to focus on not making a sound as he stabbed into her flesh. After one small, straight cut he lifted the knife and removed his hand from her mouth.

As the last time had taken so much longer, she had been prepared for a lot more cuts so when he released her a wave of dizzying relief washed over her. She hunched herself against the wall, breathing heavily while still refusing to make a sound. He took her bodily, his tongue pressing against her back and the raw cut, making her shudder against him.

"I fucking hate you." She hissed against the wall as he pulled the zip back up on her dress.

He spun her back towards him and pushed her against the wall, in a different way this time.

"You don't." He assured her, his lips pulling back in what resembled a smile.

"What did you cut me for this time?"

"A reward."

"Pardon?" She asked, then her mind spun in thought. Zsasz, his obsession with tallies, his name on her back. The singular cut.

"Want to earn another cut?" He leaned in and muttered against her ear.

She nodded earnestly and he took her arm, leading her down the hall.

* * *

Back in his office, Penguin put his head in his hands and sighed. It had seemed like such a _good idea_ to give Zsasz his own torture room at the time. And sometimes it was comforting to hear the screams of his enemies down the hall. But he didn't realise just how voracious Zsasz was in his need for blood, and how often he'd be taking people home. Who was that woman again? He couldn't remember, but he knew he'd hear her screaming later. Penguin sighed again. Torturing people was all well and good, until he had a headache.


End file.
